


Nothing to Wear

by derryderrydown



Series: Cross-dressing Amnesiac Hookers [2]
Category: DCU - Comicverse, Teen Titans
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derryderrydown/pseuds/derryderrydown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cross-dressing high school prom - for when cross-dressing amnesiac hookers aren't enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing to Wear

Bart knew about being a transvestite. He'd read all the books in San Francisco Public Library. He knew a good amount of everything that had been written on the subject of transvestite psychology and the possible problems transvestites faced and he even knew a little about gender dysphoria, even though he knew that didn't relate to him.

They talked about the difficulty of figuring out what clothes would suit you and, yes, that was something Bart was just coming to grips with. What they _didn't_ talk about was the difficulty of figuring out _when_ to wear _what_.

What did you wear for going shopping with your boyfriend?

Then again, it wasn't as if Bart had a great deal of choice, which was _why_ he needed to go shopping. He knew the little leather skirt wasn't appropriate. Not unless he wanted Kon to jump him before they even reached the mall. Which was tempting but... No. So it boiled down to jeans or denim mini-skirt. If he wore jeans, he wouldn't have to bother shaving his legs. But he wanted to be able to try on skirts, so he'd have to shave his legs for that.

And if he was shaving his legs anyway, he might as well wear the skirt.

Now he just had to figure out whether to wear the black t-shirt with the sparkly pink heart or the blue t-shirt with 'Hello sailor' written on it. And, come to think of it, would his sneakers look okay with the skirt? And how much make-up should he wear?

It wasn't this difficult with boys' clothes.

* * *

Kon paused outside the first shop. "I'll meet you at Moonbucks in an hour, okay?"

Bart looked at him. "But I need your help. I need you to tell me what suits me."

"Oh man." Kon rubbed his hair. "I'm no good at that stuff, Bart, I _told_ you. You should have asked one of the girls."

"Can't you at least say what you like me in?"

Kon raised an eyebrow. "Well, _I_ think nude is a good look for   
you."

Bart grinned. "Oh, come on. Just for ten minutes. Then we can go and look at computer games."

Kon grumbled but let himself be towed into the store.

It took Bart about two minutes to collect an armful of clothes. He wasn't quite sure about the strapless dress because he wasn't certain it would stay up but it was worth a try. The fabric was all soft and slinky and he thought it would feel lovely against his thighs.

Kon was already staring longingly at the Moonbucks across the way so Bart collared a passing assistant. "Hi, where are the changing rooms?"

She sighed and pointed to a pink neon sign. "Over there."

"That's the ladies. What about the gents?"

Her eyes widened. "We... don't sell men's clothes."

"That doesn't mean men aren't going to want to shop here! That's prejudiced and-" Bart faltered as Kon elbowed him. "Of course, I   
_am_ a girl, so I'll use the ladies, thank you."

"Dipshit," Kon muttered and Bart was very aware of the assistant still watching them.

"But it _is_ prejudiced and blinkered and narrow-minded," Bart protested.

"And it's also going to get us thrown out if you're not careful." Kon paused. "Damn. I wish they had thrown us out. Then we could be looking at computer games." He glanced at his watch. "You've got six minutes."

Bart dove into the changing rooms and pulled on the first outfit. Black hipster capri pants and a little pale pink, midriff-baring t-shirt. He stared at himself critically in the mirror. He wasn't sure. He thought that perhaps you needed more of a _waist_ to get away with showing off your belly. Maybe he should get his belly button pierced.

"Kon? What do you think?"

Kon looked up from his skateboarding magazine. "Very nice."

"Do they make my bum look big?"

Kon blinked. "If your Ki- Um, if your uniform doesn't make your bum look big, I don't think anything else will be able to."

Bart tried to look at his own bum. "I didn't think so. But I think asking is a bit of a ritual."

Kon sighed and picked up his magazine again. "Four minutes."

Four minutes? Two more outfits. Next up was... the navy dress. About four inches above his knees with thin straps - oops, he should have remembered to shave his armpits, they were getting stubbly - and made of t-shirt material. He cocked his hips. Oooh, yes, that looked good.

"Kon?"

He barely looked up from his magazine. "Very nice."

"That's exactly what you said last time."

Kon sighed. "I _warned_ you I wouldn't be much use. Why can't we just go for a coffee?"

"Because I need clothes!"

"You've _got_ clothes. One minute."

He should have asked Cassie, Bart decided. Nex time, he would. For now, he'd just try on the strapless dress because he really _hoped_ it would stay on. Cassie was always complaining that modern clothes weren't designed for people with breasts, so _maybe_...

It was maroon with big pink polka dots and it looked a little bit like it had escaped from the 1950s. Which probably meant it would need more of a waist than Bart had. Oh, bother, and it zipped up at the back.

He leaned round the curtain and hissed, "Kon!"

Kon didn't look up.

"Kon!" Bart repeated, a little louder.

Finally, he looked up.

"I need you to do my zip up."

Kon sighed and slapped his magazine down. "All _right_."

The changing room was very small with two of them in it and Kon had to stand right behind Bart as he pulled up the zip.

And the dress looked absolutely fantastic. "What do you think?" Bart asked.

Kon seemed to be fascinated with Bart's shoulder.

"Hot," he muttered.

"Are you sure? Because I really like it and it does look good but I'm not sure where I'd ever wear it and-"

"I'm not talking about the dress." Kon nuzzled Bart's neck.

"Oh." Bart couldn't help leaning his head to the side as Kon licked that place that always made Bart's stomach turn flip-flops. It wasn't helped by Kon's hands on his waist, all firm and solid and _big_ and Bart usually felt short but there was something about Kon and the dress and everything else that made him feel _dainty_ as well. All feminine and pretty. "Let's go back to the Tower. _Now_."

* * *

Kon poked his lunch. It poked back and he thought longingly of the food at the Tower. He hated Smallville and he hated Smallville High most of all.

A cluster of girls settled at the end of his table and ignored him. "Have you got your prom dress yet?" one asked.

"Of _course_. Prom's in a week - what kind of loser doesn't have their dress yet?"

The first one glanced at Kon and giggled. "The same kind of loser who doesn't have a _date_ yet."

Kon stabbed his lunch. His fork bounced off. He'd show them. He'd have the hottest date there. He'd ask _Kory_ and that would show them. Hell, it'd show them he was _Superboy_ and let's see them laugh at him _then_. Except he could probably show up in his old Superboy suit and they still wouldn't get it. How thick were they all if they were fooled by a pair of stupid glasses?

Then again, who'd expect Superboy to be going to stupid Smallville High?

He gave up on whatever was masquerading as lunch and opened a bag of chips. Of course, he was going out with Bart. So he should invite Bart. And he did actually want to because it would be way more fun if Bart was there.

But if life at Smallville High was miserable when everybody thought he was straight, he dreaded to think what it would be like when they discovered he was gay.

Well, bi.

Gay.

* * *

Cassie had squealed with delight when Bart asked her to go shopping with him. "Of _course_. I'll make you look absolutely gorgeous. I did before."

"You made me look like a prostitute before," Bart pointed out.

"But a gorgeous prostitute," Cassie said brightly. "You attracted the killer on your first time out." When Bart still didn't look reassured, she ruffled his hair. "Don't worry. I'll concentrate on sweet and pretty, rather than sexy."

She'd run off to get changed before Bart could point out that he quite _liked_ sexy. He just wanted to avoid slutty.

Unless it was just for Kon.

So now she was towing him round the mall. "I like that," Bart said, pointing in the window of a shop they'd just shot past at high speed.

"They have communal changing rooms in there. No good for you. Come on, in here."

"This is the kids' section," Bart complained.

"And you're petite enough to get away with it. Try this on. And this. Oh, and this. And you'll look absolutely _adorable_ in this."

Bart looked at the dresses in his arms. Gingham. Frills. Pictures of _cartoon_ characters - and not the cool ones like Afterlife Avenger.

He shoved them back on the rails and headed for the Tower, his little leather skirt and Kon.

* * *

They were meant to be in training at 3pm sharp. If they weren't, Vic would get his revenge in new and interesting ways.

Kon looked at the clock. Six minutes to three. If they showered at the same time, that meant they could stay in bed for another three minutes. They could skip the shower completely but that probably wouldn't be a good idea.

"Bart?"

Bart's response was a sleepy mumble before he looked up. "Mm?"

"I'm not going to be here next Friday. I've, uh, I've got to go to my prom."

"Oh." Bart's eyes looked impossibly huge. "Who're you taking?" Kon was proud of himself for figuring out that the studied nonchalance was probably hiding a certain amount of upset.

"Well. I'd kind of like to take _you_. Only. Only, I don't really want to come out to everybody at school."

Bart shrugged. "I get it. You should ask Cassie."

Kon shook his head sharply. "No, I'm asking _you_. I'm just asking that... Well, that you wear a dress." Kon swallowed. "Which I know is probably really rude and everything but-"

He was silenced by Bart kissing him. "A prom dress," Bart finally said, sitting back. "I get to go and look for a prom dress. Man, I _love_ you." And then he was skittering off to the shower, shedding the leather skirt on the way.

Kon lay back and reflected that, actually, that had gone pretty well.

* * *

A prom dress. He was going to get a prom dress. The trouble was, Bart still had no idea what would suit him and he had to look absolutely gorgeous for Kon. Gorgeous and completely and utterly _female_. So, who was the most female person he knew who could be persuaded to help him?

Exactly on cue, Kory undulated past.

"Kory, will you come shopping with me?"

She stopped. "Shopping?"

Bart was getting a crick in his neck already. Perhaps this hadn't been a good idea. "I need a prom dress but I don't know what would look good. And you always look..." Hot? Sexy? Drop-dread gorgeous? "You were a model," he finished lamely.

"A prom dress? Kon has asked you to a prom?"

"Yeah." Bart beamed. "Only, he doesn't want to come out to his entire school so he wants me to dress as a girl. Which I think is great because I get a prom dress! But I don't know where to shop or what would suit me or anything like that, so I really really need some advice. Please?"

Kory blinked. "I... I think I may be able to help."

* * *

Kory had made a phone call before they left the Tower, changed into civilian clothes and then they had taken a cab to a very posh looking building. Inside, there were a few drifts of fabric but mainly there were just expensive-looking pots on stands. Bart tugged on Kory's sleeve. "Kory, I want a dress. Not a pot."

"I know, Bart. Don't worry."

Then a door opened and a man with skin almost as orange as Kory's came into the room. "Kory! My dear child! How utterly fabulous to see you again."

Kory leaned down a little and kissed him on the cheek. "And you, Terence. This is the friend I was telling you about."

"Ah, the one in need of a dress." Terence studied him critically and Bart really wished he'd had something nicer than the denim skirt to put on. "Hmm. We should be able to come up with something. Follow me."

Through the door was a treasure trove of colours and textures and sheer, elegant lines and Bart caught his breath. "Kory," he whispered. "I don't think I can afford anything from here."

"It is not a concern," Kory said with a smile. "Terence has been trying to persuade me to model his clothes for his next photoshoot. I have agreed, on condition that he lend you a dress."

Bart's mouth made an 'oh'.

"So. Colours." Terence studied him. "I think autumn, don't you, Kory? Deep reds and russets. This will be worn in artificial lighting, yes?"

Bart nodded dumbly.

"Then reds, definitely. Something long, of course, and simple. You do not, I fear, have the elan to carry off a complicated dress. It would overshadow you. My dear Kory, of course, can wear anything."

"Terence," said Kory with a hint of admonition.

"Of course, of course. The boy."

Bart's heart sank. Was it that obvious he was male? "Um, I need to look as much like a girl as possible. Can you do that?"

"I can do anything," Terence announced with a wave of his hand. "You will need something with sleeves. It makes your shoulders look less broad. And your arms are a little too well-muscled for you to _really_ want to show them off."

Bart looked down at his arms. Why had he never noticed that?

"But not heavy sleeves. Filmy, floaty, lighter than the dress. A v-neck," Terence continued. "It takes attention away from your shoulders by attracting it to your cleav- Ah. Will you be wearing breasts?"

"Um. I never have. So probably not." Bart was already flushing furiously.

"Then not a very _deep_ neckline. Some detailing around the neck will help. Yes." Terence prowled around Bart. "You have good hips but we will need to create an illusion of a waist, which means a flared skirt. Yes. Yes, I think I have a dress that will suit you."

And when Bart put the dress on, he actually _felt_ female. And sexy.

* * *

Bart hated Sunday evenings. He and Kon loitered as late as possible before Vic and Kory threw them out but it was never late enough.

"So, see you on Friday," Kon said, hovering a couple of inches in the air.

"Can I get ready at yours?" Bart asked. "I don't want to run from Keystone in my dress."

"Oh."

Bart waited.

"See, I haven't actually told my foster parents I'm gay."

"Oh." Bart looked at the box with his dress in. "Well. I suppose I could do my hair and make-up and stuff at home and just change into my dress at the last minute." Although it would mean he wouldn't look his absolute _best_ and he did want to.

Kon squeezed his hand. "I'll tell them before Friday. Five o'clock, at mine. See you there."

* * *

_I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay._ It was perfectly easy to say, Kon told himself.

He just needed to stand in front of Marth and Jo- _Aunt_ Martha and _Uncle_ Jonathan and say it.

_I'm gay and I'm dating a transvestite._

It was perfectly straightforward.

_I'm gay and I'm dating a transvestite and I'm taking him to the prom._

Easy.

They were still up. They always waited up for him on a Sunday. Kon tried to tell himself it was because they were concerned for him but it still felt more like they were jailers wanting to make sure their charge was safely back in his cell.

_I'm gay and I'm dating a transvestite and I'm taking him to the prom and can I borrow the truck?_

"Hello, Conner dear." Martha smiled at him. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"I'm gay and I'm dating a transvestite and I'm taking him to the prom and can I borrow the truck and can he get ready here?"

He hadn't actually meant to _say_ it like that. In fact, he'd meant to say it just as they dropped him off at school, so he could run away and hide for a few hours.

Martha's mouth fell open and Jonathan cleared his throat. "Well. This isn't something we went through with Clark but you're still our..."

_Genetic construct._

"A part of our family," Jonathan recovered. "You've had a long weekend. Why don't you go up to bed and we'll talk about it in the   
morning."

As Kon lay in bed, he could hear them talking downstairs.

"He's probably just trying to establish himself as different from Clark," Martha said comfortably. "I'll phone Clark tomorrow and see what he says."

Kon really hoped he _was_ different from Clark in this. Although Superman and Batman were pretty close and...

That night, he dreamed of Batman in a pink gingham frock, skipping through the fields.

* * *

School was covered in posters for the prom and it was all anybody seemed to talk about. Even the _teachers_ were talking about it. And it was completely wrong when he overheard two of them talking about chaperoning because they shouldn't have been talking so intensely or giving each other schmoopy looks.

Proms were about romance for the _kids_, not the teachers. Eurgh.

"Hey, Kent." Oh, of course. Kyle Lyman. _Just_ who Kon wanted to speak to. "Haven't heard about you asking anyone to the prom. Sensible of you to not even bother trying."

Kon leaned back against his locker. "I haven't asked anybody round here because I'm taking my-" boy "-girlfriend."

Lyman laughed. "Yeah, sure you are. So, what's her name?"

"Bar- Barbara." Jeez. Well done, Kon. _That_ wasn't dodgy at   
all.

"Barbara. Right. And what does this Barbara look like?"

Kon shrugged. "Short. Slim. Brown hair." He grinned as he pushed Kyle out of the way. "And hotter than anybody in _this_ school."

* * *

Bart hadn't worn heels since the first prostitute incident. The black silk shoes Terence had insisted on only had an inch heel, instead of the four inches of the boots, but they were still awkward to walk in.

Which was why Bart was determinedly walking up and down his bedroom. And, when Jay and Joan were out, up and down the stairs.

Because this had to be _perfect_.

* * *

Bart knew that Kon lived on a farm. But he'd kind of assumed that it was a courtesy title because he really couldn't see Kon on an   
_actual_ farm. But this was a real farm. There were chickens. One of them pecked his foot. And there was Kon, carrying a couple of bales of straw.

When Kon saw him, he grinned, tossed the bales on to a pile of others and headed over. "Hey."

This was normally the point when they disappeared to a quiet corner of the Tower to spend an hour or so making out. But this was Kon's _home_ and Kon was evidently thinking the same thing. "Did you have a good week?" Bart asked brightly.

"I told them on Sunday night," Kon said. "They've been terrifyingly normal since then. Except Jonathan bought a tape of showtunes. He seems to think I should like Judy Garland."

"Oh, I like Judy Garland. And _Wizard of Oz_. That film's fantastic."

Kon grinned. "You're such a _fag_, Bart."

Bart blew a raspberry. "So, where am I getting ready?"

"The spare room. Martha says you can stop the night, to save you having to run back to the Tower tonight." Kon rolled his eyes. "But she also says that she doesn't want to know what we do at the Tower but, as far as she's concerned, we're both still children and we'll behave as children while we're under her roof."

Bart thought about it. "Play doctors and nurses?"

Kon thumped him as they headed through the front door and Bart grinned up at him.

"Spare room's up the stairs and second on the left. Bathroom's first on the right." Kon sighed. "I've got to finish up my chores. We'll be leaving around half seven."

"Half seven? I'm going to have to rush." Bart kissed Kon on the cheek and zipped upstairs before Kon could say anything.

* * *

"So," Martha said, emerging from the kitchen. "I'm guessing he's one of those superspeed heroes. Which would probably make him Kid Flash."

Kon groaned. "It's meant to be a secret identity."

"Well, I hope you're better at keeping your secret identity under wraps than he is." Martha clucked and shook her head. "Honestly. Heading upstairs at that speed and barely even a thud. I wish Clark had known how to do that."

* * *

The first thing Bart had done was to hang his dress up. Because he'd folded it carefully and put it safely into its box but he really didn't want to risk it having even the slightest crease because, tonight, he had to look absolutely perfect. Now it hung against the wardrobe. The embroidery sparkled in the sunlight while the heavy silk just gleamed expensively and just _looking_ at it made Bart smile.

The second thing was to lay out his newly bought make-up. Kory had advised him on colours and he'd been practising all week, with his door wedged shut in case Jay walked in. He still wished Kory was there to put it on for him, though. He was no good at eyeliner.

But before he did any of that, he had to shower, shave and wash his hair. Martha had left towels on the bed, big soft ones, and Bart wriggled happily as he wrapped one around his waist and slung the other over his shoulder. Once he'd got this out the way, he could concentrate on the fun part of getting ready. He opened the door and squeaked because there was a _man_ standing there.

The man cleared his throat and held out his hand. "You must be Bart. I'm Jonathan, Conner's uncle."

Bart shook Jonathan's hand and had to consciously slow himself down. "Pleased to meet you, sir." He tweaked the towel on his shoulder so he didn't feel _quite_ so naked. This really wasn't the best way to meet your boyfriend's sort-of father.

"Now," Jonathan said, "I don't want to come the threatening father figure but I think you should know that we're very fond of Conner. He's been through a lot lately. And I hope you're not intending to hurt him in any way."

_But the spanking doesn't seem to hurt him at all,_ Bart thought before realising what Jonathan meant. "Kon's my best friend," he said.

That seemd to be enough because Jonathan stepped back with a sharp nod. "Well, you'd better get ready. I hope you've, er, got a nice... Dress."

"It's lovely," Bart said brightly. "It's a Terence d'Alvolio original." And with that, he shot into the bathroom.

* * *

At around seven, Bart heard the thuds of Kon coming upstairs. There was more thudding and clanking in the bathroom, some muffled swearing from Kon's bedroom and then a cry of, "Aunt Martha! I can't fasten my bowtie!"

A few minutes after that, there was more thudding as Kon headed downstairs.

Bart looked at his watch, lying on the dressing table because it was far too scruffy to be worn tonight. Twenty-five past seven. Time to head downstairs.

He took a last look in the mirror and tugged his dress straight, even though it was already, ran his fingers through his hair and checked his lipstick.

Perfect.

Well, as perfect as he was going to get. He owed Kory bigtime for the dress.

Time to face the audience. He popped his lipstick into his purse and slid his shoes on.

The stairs looked far steeper and more rickety than the ones at home. He wished he'd paid more attention to uneven boards on his way up but it was too late now. With one hand resting lightly on the banister, he took the first step.

And, once he'd started, it was surprisingly easy to glide the rest of the way down. Because he could see Kon and Kon was wearing a dinner jacket and his bowtie was perfect and he looked gorgeous. And he was staring at Bart and looking absolutely stunned. It was a good look on him.

Kon held out his hand. "I cleaned the truck out," he said.

Bart rested his hand on Kon's arm. "Thanks."

"Have a nice time, boys," Martha said and Bart grinned at her.

* * *

Kon was quiet for a long time. "I told one of the guys you were called Barbara," he said eventually. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Barbara." Bart tasted the name. "No, Barbara's fine."

"Look, Bart. I just thought you should know. I - I have to pass as a bit of a nerd here. Superman figures that if his alter ego has to be a complete loser, mine should be too. So, I'm not particularly popular. In fact, I haven't really got any friends here." Kon changed gear with a grinding noise. "Just thought you should know. Damn gearbox. The only people in the world who don't have an automatic."

"Secret identities suck," Bart said. "So, where did we meet? Rhode Island?"

Kon shrugged. "Why not? Why were we there?"

Bart grinned. "Secret agent training camp."

"Filming a Hollywood blockbuster."

"Studying the last remaining dinosaur."

"Training with the Patriots."

"Writing Afterlife Avenger." Bart giggled at Kon's groan.

"Saving the world," Kon offered.

"Nah. Boring. We do that every weekend."

"You're a pain," Kon said with a smile and flipped the indicator.

"This is your school?" Bart asked, peering out the window. "It's bigger than I thought it'd be."

Kon shrugged. "It's still a dump." He parked with a jerk. "Time to go."

They were on their way in before Kon realised they hadn't got their stories straight. Oh well. He wasn't planning on being parted from Bart at any point.

Bart looked around as they walked into the gym. "What's the theme? Tastelessness?"

Kon tried not to laugh. "Apparently, it's Space."

"Space doesn't look anything like this. Why didn't you tell them?"

"I'm not on the committee. Besides, what was I meant to say when they asked me how I knew? 'Oh, I popped out there a few months ago, had a look around. It's a bit boring, really.'"

Bart pointed. "They put Ursa Major upside down."

"How would you know?" somebody demanded.

Bart turned to look at her - a stressed-looking blonde in a dress that was just a little bit too big. "Because if you draw a line from Merak through Dubhe, you're meant to end up at Polaris. With the way you've got it hung, you have to draw the line from Dubhe through Merak." Kon elbowed Bart. "But it looks fantastic," Bart said quickly. "Hi, I'm Barbara."

"I'm Carey. I'm on the prom committee."

"You've done a great job," Bart said. "It's very sparkly."

"So." Carey stared at him. "You're here with Conner. Nobody really believed him when he said he was bringing his girlfriend from out of state."

"Really?" Bart squeezed Kon's hand. "Who are you here with?"

"Kyle Lyman. The quarterback." Bart wasn't particularly surprised. "How long have you two been going out?"

"Only a couple of months," Bart said. "But we've known each other for - two years? Is it two years?"

"About that," Kon mumbled.

"Really." Carey's smile was sickly sweet. "And where do you live, Barbara?"

"Right now, San Francisco." Well, he lived in San Francisco at the weekends and it was the weekend right now. "Before that, Keystone City, Denver and a little place in Alabama."

"And how did you meet?"

"We were both in Rhode Island for a conference. A math conference."

"A math conference? Conner?" Carey laughed. "I sit next to him in math. He's _dreadful_."

"Well, of course. High school math? We're both bored to tears by it. I'm surprised your school makes him turn up to math lessons." Bart suddenly realised that Kon was tugging at his arm. "Anyway, I shouldn't monopolise you. I'm sure you have lots of people to speak to."

"Bart!" Kon hissed once they were out of range. "What do you think you were _doing_?"

"She was irritating me. Besides, there's a great deal of evidence that geniuses tend to perform poorly in a normal school environment. Perhaps you _are_ a math prodigy and it's just that nobody's discovered it yet."

"And perhaps you're an _idiot_ and we already know that."

"Oooh, punch. Will you get me some?"

Kon groaned.

* * *

"Who'd have thought it," one of Kyle's friends said. "Conner does actually have a date."

"She's loony," Carey said haughtily. "Talked about maths and astrology and things."

"Astronomy," Gabrielle corrected. "But it is a stunning dress. Terence d'Alvolio, I'm sure."

"She's _hot_," Kyle said.

Carey flounced off.

* * *

"I think we should be dancing," Kon said awkwardly.

"Do you want to?"

Kon tugged at his bowtie. "Yeah."

Bart grinned. "Cool. But I warn you, I haven't practiced dancing in these shoes."

It took a few moments to work out that Bart's hands should be going on Kon's shoulders, not his waist. It took a while longer for them to figure out that Bart really _hadn't_ practised dancing in heels.

"Hang on," Kon said.

"Um, Kon," Bart said. "I think we're flying."

"Only a little. Nobody will notice."

Bart rested his head on Kon's shoulder. "Okay." If he squinted, he could believe they were waltzing through the night sky. Perhaps they'd do that for real on their way home.


End file.
